He stopped his pacing and onee again trained his telescope on La Créole. Not a flag was flying and none of the men's washing was strung on a line. From where she was now, Wagstafie could see all the way down to Pointe des Salines.
A pelican splashed into the water so close by that it made him jump. He watched it through the port as it raised its great bill, gulping at the fish it caught and then resting. It reminded him of a portly bishop eyeing the port decanter circling the table towards him after a fine dinner.
Southwick came up, mopping his brow with a large and grubby cloth. 'D'you think we might spread the awning, sir? It's so damned hot and we could have it down in five minutes if...'
Ramage closed the telescope with an exasperated snap. 'Yes, by all means. The way things are going, we could give the men a week's shore leave.'
"You mustn't take on so, sir,' Southwick chided. 'You can't expect the French to be on time and anyway the calm may also serve to stop us having to share 'em with the Admiral.’
Ramage stared at him, hardly able to believe his ears.
Southwick grinned almost defiantly and murmured: 'I'm certain I don't want to, and I'm sure you don't really, not if you think about it. Why sir, I can just see the Juno and the Surcouf escorting two brace o' French merchantmen into Bridgetown.'
‘I’ve thought of it,' Ramage admitted, 'but I've tried and failed to think of where we'd find the guards and prize crews.'
Now it was Southwick's turn to stare. 'Why sir, we won't need guards. We can just turn the French prisoners loose on the beach opposite the Diamond and let 'em walk over the mountains to Fort Royal to give the Governor the glad news. Ten of our men can get one of those merchantmen to Barbados, even if it blows a gale of wind.'
Ramage took off his hat and wiped the inside of the brim. 'Let's get the awning up before the pitch melts out of the deck seams.'
Petite Anse d'Arlet was probably one of the loveliest bays in Martinique. At any other time Ramage would have enjoyed spending a few hours anchored there and would have let the men fish or swim over the side. With a few Marines acting as sentries, the bos'n could have taken a party on shore for a wooding expedition: the cook's eternal complaint was that he was short of firewood for the coppers and soon would not be able to produce hot food. It was the regular complaint of every cook in the Navy and not to be taken very seriously, but wooding and watering, even though it meant finding a freshwater stream and rolling the heavy casks along the beach, was always a welcome task for the men and often, for a year at a time, the only chance they had of setting foot on land.
The day wore on slowly. At half past eleven the order 'Clear decks and up spirits' was given and the rum was served out. At noon the men went to dinner. Ramage and Southwick were doing watch and watch about, and both of them were hard pressed not to hail the lookouts from time to time to see if La Créole had hoisted any signals.
The men were still below when an excited hail came: 'Deck there, the schooner has hoisted a French flag!'
Ramage shouted to Jackson to fire a musket shot to alert the Surcouf and ordered a bos'n's mate to pipe 'Man the capstan'. For the moment there was no rush: Wagstaffe's signal meant that he had sighted the French convoy rounding Pointe des Salines and definitely identified it. The French had a good ten miles to sail before they reached the Fours Channel, and Ramage did not want to risk his two frigates being seen by a French frigate which might stay out farther to the west, From now on La Créole's signals would be hoisted for one minute only, single flags whose meanings could be known only to those with copies of the list that Ramage had issued to Aitken, Wagstaffe and the petty officer in command of the Diamond batteries.
Southwick had heard the musket shot but not the lookout's hail. Hurrying up the companionway he inquired anxiously; 'The French or the Admiral, sir?'
'The French,' Ramage said crisply, 'and they're on time, you notice. But we can't be sure yet that the Admiral isn't chasing them round the Pointe. Man the capstan and heave round until we're at long stay. We'll be seeing some more signals from Wagstaffe soon and know what is happening.'
Although Ramage had not ordered the men to quarters - time enough for that on the way down to the Diamond - Jackson had already come up to the quarterdeck, where he would act as quartermaster, responsible for seeing that the men at the wheel carried out Ramage's orders. Now Orsini hurried up the companionway, his dirk round his waist and holding the signal book and a list of the special signals for La Créole. He had his own telescope under his arm and began strutting along the quarterdeck. For a moment Ramage was reminded of grackles at Barbados, the large friendly blackbirds with long, stiff tails. They too strutted and whenever he saw one he always pictured it with a telescope under its wing. The boy has a right to strut, he thought affectionately. Although at sea for only a few weeks, he has already soaked up more seamanship than most youngsters get drummed into them in a year. Orsini had an all-consuming curiosity about ships and the sea and was eager to learn. He was here on board the Juno because he had badgered Gianna into persuading Ramage to take him. Far too many 'younkers' went to sea as captain's servants (an inaccurate description since they were apprentices rather than servants) or midshipmen because their parents decided on it. In many families the eldest son inherited, the second went into the Navy, the third the Army, the fourth the Church, and a fifth was indentured to the East India Company, with high hopes that he would become a nabob and fears he would be hard put to remain a clerk and not fall off his counting house stool. Orsini was there from choice and all the more useful for it.
By now the men were heaving round on the capstan and he glanced across at the Surcouf. She too was heaving in, with Bevins the fiddler perched on the capstan. He was thankful he had spent the previous evening with Aitken and Wagstaffe going over everything he and they could think of. It should save a great deal of signalling. La Créole reports the French in sight by hoisting a Tricolour and whichever of the two frigates spots the signal first fires a musket shot and both frigates heave in to long stay. After that, the Surcouf follows the Juno's movements until they are approaching the Diamond. Then it would be time for the signal book, but both Aitken and Wagstaffe now understood so well what he anticipated would be his tactics that few signals should be needed. There was another hail from aloft. 'Schooner, sir. She's hoisted a single flag.'
Ramage had barely acknowledged the hail before Paolo, telescope to his eye, was calling, 'Number seven, sir. That's Enemy convoy comprises seven merchant ships or transports.'
A big convoy whose ships would carry enough to keep Martinique going for several months. Ramage took off his hat and wiped his brow, although now the perspiration suddenly felt cold. A big convoy meant a big escort and Wagstaffe's next signal would tell him how many frigates there were. The signal after that, if there was one, would tell him how many ships of the line were down there off Pointe des Salines.
'Deck there! She's lowered that flag and hoisted another!'
'Number four, sir!' Paolo shouted excitedly. ‘The escort includes four frigates.’
'Watch for the next one,' Ramage growled, and felt time slowing down as tension knotted his muscles.
'They're hauling the second one down, sir!' the masthead lookout reported.
Were they bending on another flag or simply taking the last one off and making up the halyard on its cleat? A minute passed, and then two. The capstan was groaning, and Jackson was watching him rubbing the scar on his brow, while Paolo kept his telescope trained on La Créole.
Aitken had seen the two signals and, like Ramage, was waiting anxiously to see if there was a third. Like Ramage he knew that it would be a death sentence for them all, whether it reported one ship of the line or ten.